


Rebirth

by TheNightling



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightling/pseuds/TheNightling
Summary: The concept of Recurring dreams...  Sandman style.
Kudos: 6





	Rebirth

Rebirth

Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction based on Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman. The Sandman is owned by Neil Gaiman and DC Comics. 

Sometimes dreams recur.

There is a phenomena in humanity where one might dream of the same people or events again and again and again, each time playing out quite the same. Well, almost quite the same. We call this phenomena Recurring Dreams. Often it will appear to be the exact same dream and it is the same dream but in reality the dream returns with slight changes to its substance. It is the same dream that has come around again but the changes, however slight, are present. Sometimes it can be as simple as a change of lighting or perspective or mood…

The best comparison for describing Dream of The Endless is something like a great crystal. Each aspect- each incarnation- each personification is a shard of that crystal, or more precisely each aspect is like a facet from a great jewel. A facet can shimmer and shine like a jewel unto itself but it’s really just a tiny part of a great whole.

If a piece of a crystal is chipped, a chip can be carefully mended.

When the aspect of Dream of the Endless known as Morpheus was struck down, a new aspect of Dream manifested itself to take his place. This new aspect was known as Daniel. Once the soul of a mostly-humanish child, Daniel had never entirely been what he appeared to be.  
Conceived in a dream dimension, the boy was the child of a mortal woman (once descended from the Greek Gods) and the ghost of some poor, deluded man, tricked into thinking he was The Sandman…  
There was an irony in Daniel becoming the true Sandman (Dream of The Endless) when his Father had been a false version. Two years he had gestated in a womb of a dreamer, conceived within the dream, and then born into the mortal waking world.

If Daniel thought about it he could remember all of it. Yes, all of it. He remembered Lyta, his mother, smiling down at him in that soft, padded crib. He remembered Morpheus. Morpheus, who was so much like himself, that he could feel him- his mind- his soul. He could feel him the way a twin senses his brother, only more profound. He was him. He could stare into those black eyes and see into the star and what lay beyond it. The secrets that no mortal could observe. They knew each other’s true name. They knew each other’s feelings and memories. And he knew when it was time to become what he was always meant to be…

Daniel remembered those black eyes staring down into his own soft, and seemingly human, blue eyes. Daniel could see into the star pupils, into the essence of what they truly were. And he knew what must be done, what must happen, and how it was meant to be. 

Sometimes Daniel had wondered what it would be like to be mortal. Truly mortal. Not just the pseudo-mortal his toddlerhood had entailed. What would it have been like to experience something like an actual childhood? To experience the pleasures and pains of a human life. Things he had never truly known except in the observation of the dreams of others such as playing in a schoolyard with children. Sitting in a classroom and raising his hand to answer a question. Shyly asking someone to dance with him. He wanted to know how it felt to grow in a mortal body, to experience the chaos of the unsteady emotions of puberty.  
He knew his predecessor had never had those things either. But his predecessor had never had experienced that taste of being loved as a human baby. He could pity Morpheus for that. Morpheus had never known a mother’s love, not really… 

Dream of The Endless is a child of Night and Time but Morpheus had never know a parent’s love. Daniel had been loved by Lyta Hall. He could remember Rose Walker, his babysitter, whose essence had a hint of Endless to it. Rose’s grandparent had been Desire of The Endless. Great-niece as Dream of The Endless, babysitter as Daniel Hall.  
Daniel believed that Morpheus had never known or wanted a human life. But Daniel… Daniel longed for the thing he had only had in passing illusion. 

Daniel walked across the dreaming sands under the pale moon: through the dreams of countries and cities, past dreams of places long gone and times beyond recall.

The wind whipped Daniel’s white hair and caused his cream colored robes to billow around him. The only color about him was the brown, leather pouch of dream sand, and the emerald amulet that hung at his throat. His eyes were solid black, save for the tiny star-like pupils. And his own skin was as white as bone. 

He was determined. He had a purpose. It was time. A thousand souls and a thousand dreams helped solidify his plan this night. It was time. He felt a pulling in his very soul. The dreams had be heeded. It was time. Time for a new aspect to take over- or rather an old one to return to his place… 

Such a thing had never happened before. A long time ago a new aspect had taken the place of the original Despair. And a new aspect had taken the place of the original Dream. Daniel had taken the place of the previous aspect of Dream of The Endless. But now something new and different would happen. Something that had never been done before… 

In the dream of one Robert (Hob) Gadling, the dead Dream walked peacefully along the coastline, in the fading sunset of an eternal eventide. Morpheus liked the fading orange against the deepening blue. The smearing of sunset clouds like vibrant paints upon a canvas. He liked the long shadows that stretched against the soft, light, grains of sand that were between his toes. He even liked the mystery of the ominous forest just past the beach. 

His deliberately tattered black robes whipped around him as he walked. A scar marred his right cheek. He had chosen to have that scar and out of respect it remained when Daniel had re-created him. He was at peace here. He was free. He was no longer one of The Endless. And he was quite content with that divide. And every night Hob would dream of him and they walked together along the shore. Hob would tell him of his day to day life or his feelings about this or that new element of pop culture. 

Last night Hob had told him about some new fantasy called The Witcher. Morpheus recognized this as a polish book series that began after his captivity and before his ultimate defeat but as with all mythologies it had changed, evolved, taken on some new form.  
Hob had spoken of an actor named Henry and how familiar the character of Geralt’s relationship with the bard felt but he couldn’t quite determine why…

Morpheus enjoyed those conversations and he was content to be relieved of burden and spending six to eight hours a night just having those conversations and then spending his days here in this dream, feeding the birds, and walking along the shore, hearing the lapping of the waves. He rather liked it here with time to reflect on those conversations and finally be at peace with himself and his past…

He breathed the salty air and felt the spray of the ocean. Daniel had done an excellent job in creating this eternal eventide for him. He heard the call of the hungry seagulls that swooped down to eat the grain he had left in his wake. He was happy here…

Abruptly he felt a sensation within himself. He looked down at his own hand. The bone-white flesh had taken on a translucent quality. He frowned. He understood what was happening. The knowledge flooded his mind as his own form began to fade. He felt himself being pulled away like a mortal dreamer waking up.

What was Dream doing? His story was done. His story was told. It was done. It was over. Everything he needed to be happy was there within that dream. He was afraid. Nothing like this had ever been done before by any of their kind and he was afraid. Did he know what he was risking? This could be an incredible mistake. 

He felt himself being pulled through the darkened forest and into the unknown, some unexplored part of what it is to be or to have been Dream of The Endless. A thousand voices were talking and whispering and jabbering and they all called his name. A thousand dreamers calling him back… They were dreaming of him, a thousand souls dreaming of him all at once. And he understood what that meant…  
The din became overwhelming. And in the chaos of the deluge of sound he felt such a strange and profound sense of something that he had only yearned for in his long life. Something that was as profound and deep as the friendship he had with Hob Gadling. Love.  
And he knew what they wanted. And he knew what Daniel was doing. And instantly he forgave the rude transgression. A part of him longed for this despite his initial reluctance. Perhaps deep down he knew this was not where he truly needed to be. And he could always return to Hob’s dream. It was just no longer his eternal home. Eternity was a lot shorter than he expected…

The magick pulling him was potent and ancient. And fear gave way to wonder. 

All dreams eventually end. Many dreams change. Some are replaced. But there is also such a thing as a recurring dream... 

The pain of being born is something both now understood on some fundamental level. He could hear before he could see. And he could feel before he could think.

Morpheus lay naked, curled in a fetal position in moon drenched sands. His black hair fell into his eyes. This was a different shore of The Dreaming, far from Hob’s eventide.

He was trembling. Everything was familiar yet new. He could sense Daniel near, the one who knew him better than anyone as they were technically one and the same. They were both Dream of The Endless and so they had always known each other. But something was different now…

He shakily stood up on uneasy legs. He felt the cool sand between his toes, not the sand warmed by an eternal sunset. 

Morpheus had always been a fortress until himself holding his feelings and secret wishes deep inside. Daniel had secret wishes too but those desires need not be hidden any longer. 

Morpheus trembled and yet he was not cold, not really, but he was in need of raiment. He thought of the feel of the fabric of his robes, dark and full. He thought of how they should look and they easily took form. He walked in the sand along the lapping shore until he came to the discarded leather pouch of dreamsand. He picked this up carefully.  
He carried the pouch of dreamsand clutched in one hand as he continued onward… 

He secured the pouch at his hip, feeling the familiar weight of its presence there. 

He walked until he came to the necklace in the sand. It was not the ruby. It was not the emerald. The topaz dreamstone, perhaps? No. The moonlight was reflecting off of bright flecks against a pale aqua-green fire opal. 

Morpheus knelt down and picked this up. He looked it over. Sometimes dreams change. Sometimes they return a little different. Dreams can recur. He placed the amulet around his neck and he felt the power within it. He understood his purpose now. He was ready. This was the reason he was reborn. 

Dream had always been something different. Perhaps that’s why this had happened. Maybe that was why schemes had been thwarted. The usual rules for such matters did not apply now. The Dreams of a thousand souls can rewrite the rules. 

He was not sad. He was no longer trembling. And he had come so far. There was no dread of this new life. He could start fresh. Reborn. The orchard of his past sins had burned down in his death. He had died and he had changed. And now he was new. New yet ancient. He walked to the light sounds and movement ahead of him. The faint and gentle (and likely deliberate) cooing…

The bundle of white material in the distance held a small child. This was a human toddler with blond hair, in the loose wrappings of a white blanket (or were they robes?), and all around him were the tiny, sparkling fragments of a recently shattered emerald dreamstone.  
The sparkling fragments were dissolving now, the power spent in restoring him (Morpheus) to the state he was in now. 

Morpheus’ black eyes stared down into the soft, and human, blue eyes. The toddler stared up into the star pupils. And Morpheus knew what must be done, what must happen, and how it was meant to be.  
He reached down for the boy who gently reached up for him to be taken into his arms. 

“Is this truly what you want?” Morpheus asked the boy with a solemnness. The boy responded in a way that could only pass between the two of them that no mortal or spying dream entity might hear. Morpheus nodded. “Very well.”  
He carried the boy, wrapped in a soft, white blanket. He walked slowly and held him carefully and gently as if little Daniel was the most precious thing in the world and so he was.

Rose walker answered the door. She recognized Morpheus. How could she forget? Still, it was always a jolt to realize it was all true. The incident at the hotel where she had called out to Morpheus by his true name. Her discovering she was a dream vortex, and finally being saved by her grandmother, and everything else… She could not suppress a gasp.  
It was surreal to see him at the door like some strange, late night, UPS delivery. 

“His parents are in The Dreaming. Their human lives are done. He wants this world. And he wants you, Rose Walker. Will you take him?” And as if in after thought, “…Please?”

She knew who the baby was but the how and why of the situation was baffling to her. She recognized him. But this was impossible. It had been thirty-years and yet like herself, little Daniel Hall was …little Daniel Hall. Here he was, somehow unchanged by time.

Morpheus seemed to be reading her thoughts. “He is not unchanged. He is very much changed. We have all… changed.”

Rose took Daniel into her arms and held him close to herself. She understood what Morpheus had said. Somehow she understood that. 

“Take care of him, Rose Walker. This is the life he wants. I felt I should return the favor… For the life he has given me…” 

He had once said that Daniel belonged to him but that was only because they were both Dream of The Endless, or rather that he knew Daniel would be Dream of The Endless. He had also once said that you can only truly belong to yourself. And Daniel had chosen to be human after all.

She was going to say something else but his form had already faded away and she was left with little Daniel in her arms. 

In The Dreaming Morpheus walked across the dreaming sands under the pale moon: through the dreams of countries and cities, past dreams of places long gone and times beyond recall.

The black robes were familiar. Everything was familiar. At his neck hung the blue-green and flecked fire opal on a black cord. That was new. There was something else too. There was a secret gift Daniel had left him. It was one that had come with the shattering of the emerald. His short post-life free of being Dream of The Endless and being an entity of dream, living inside Hob’s dreams, had changed him.  
He felt the guilt of the past wash away. He felt forgiven… He felt hope.  
He felt Hope…

He was not brooding on the past any longer. Instead he was moving forward and looking toward the future. A future with friends such as Hob and Matthew. A future without the burden of so many mistakes. He felt absolved of those things now. 

He briefly thought of his son, Orpheus. Not the ruined creature who had longed to die, but the young man whole and happy and now with his wife in Elysium and the peace Orpheus had there, a peace which mustn’t ever be disturbed.  
Morpheus had seen him there on the docks with the lyre during his own Wake. 

He reached for the pouch at his hip and drew out a fistful of sand. He was careful in his working. The effort and skill needed took several hours. His cunning fingers worked to create something new or something long lost.  
The form of a little girl too shape. Her skin was as blue as night sky. Her hair was black and her eyes were full of wonder and kindness. He wasn’t sure where or when he had seen this little girl before but he felt the need to create her now.

He touched the fire opal. This work required some concentration as the dreamstone began to glow a beautiful aquatic green. He was drawing down a soul through time and space- a soul that some subconscious part of himself knew was out there and though he had never known it before, some lost memory that was not a memory guided him.  
He called to her silently, pleaded to her- needed her. Needed her the way Daniel needed Rose. As one longed to be a child, the other longed to be a parent. As Daniel yearned to have real memories, Morpheus learned for a second chance… 

And they both would have what they wanted in some fashion…

He found her. She was willing to live again. She felt his need and his love. 

He drew this lost soul down into the body he had created for her.  
The child he created from dreamsand and a lost soul came to life as surely as any dream he had created.  
She blinked and looked up at him. “Hello.”  
“Hello.” Morpheus replied.  
“I am Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula.” The little girl said.  
“That is a lovely name, Hope.”  
“I am Dream. And I think I want to be a father now. I think perhaps I may make mistakes. …Possibly many of them. And I am sorry for those eventualities but I will try to be a good parent just the same. I have failed in this endeavor before but much has changed. I have changed. I have become something new yet very old. And I want to see if I can do this right. Is that acceptable?” He was asking permission to be her parent though he felt he was explaining himself poorly.  
She seemed to understand both the request and the intention behind it despite his awkward wording. She was looking into his eyes with some profound and improbable understanding. She reached out and took his pale hand into her own. “Are you lonely? You seem very lonely.”  
“I am never lonely.”  
“You are such a liar.” She said as if she had just figured out a puzzle and she smirked up at him. She knew he needed her. He needed to be a father and she was okay with that.  
He did not reply. He just allowed himself to enjoy her company. And so, now free of the burdens of his past, Morpheus walked hand in hand with Hope.  
He was happy. He was free. And there was something else. In having his child, his Hope, he also gained a knowledge, a very important knowledge he had lacked in his previous life. He knew now that he was not alone. He had Hope.

The End


End file.
